


Nocturne

by Nahiel



Series: Evil Author Day 2019 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, F/M, Incomplete, M/M, Praise Kink, Read at Your Own Risk, Sadomasochism, exhibition, other tags possible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 09:35:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17805557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nahiel/pseuds/Nahiel
Summary: “Look at me, Harry,” Sir commanded.Harry froze. “I don’t have my blindfold, Sir,” he whispered. He looked up, though, his eyes closed.“I know,” Sir said. “But I think that maybe it’s time that you know who I am. I think that maybe I might be ready to commit to something more permanent, and I think that you might need that in your life, that it would be better for you than what we’ve got now. And I know that you asked the Proprietor to let me know that you wanted something like that.”Harry’s breath caught. He’d told the Proprietor that weeks ago, and Sir had never expressed any interest in it. Harry had been so sure that this was the end…“Are you sure, sir?” he asked, his voice shaky and hopeful. Today was one of the worst days of his life, but if Sir was sure…“I am,” Sir said. “Open your eyes, Harry.”





	Nocturne

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a part of my Evil Author Day set for 2019 (an event wherein works are posted incomplete in all their incomplete glory). It may never be finished, and as such, is a read at your own risk. It is posted here, unedited, in all of its glory. Please do not ask me for updates regarding this story, or any other story in any Evil Author Day series.

“Close your eyes,” Sir said. There was a dark note of command in his voice that Harry found himself helpless to resist.

He closed his eyes. A cloth settled on his face, then, and got tight. He realized that he was being blindfolded, and Harry stood there passively and let himself be blinded.

“Can you see?” Sir asked.

Harry opened his eyes, and found that he could see nothing. “No sir,” Harry said. He leaned back a little, and was rewarded with a gentle hand stroking over his throat, the touch as possessive as it always was. Were all doms like that? Harry had never had one as good as Sir. Maybe it was just the good ones who were so possessive.

“Good boy.” Sir spun him around, then, and kissed Harry roughly. He tasted like something sweet. Like safety, like warmth. Like home, and Harry didn’t want to focus on that too much. Not when Sir didn’t want him the way that he wanted Sir.

So he didn’t. He just sagged into the kiss and let himself be pushed backwards, until his legs were up against the bed. “You think you need to be punished, Harry?” Sir asked.

The words were jarring. Harry jerked at the sound of them, his eyes widening behind the blindfold. “I don’t…” He swallowed. “Sir, I—” Sir knew what Harry needed. Sir always knew.

“You think you need to be punished because your partner got hurt today, don’t you?” Sir pressed. “You think you deserve to be tied to the bed and whipped because your partner’s lying in a hospital bed?”

Harry felt a sudden breeze and realized that his robes were being opened, that they were being pushed from his shoulders. And then his shirt was unbuttoned and pushed from his shoulders as well before Sir began to remove Harry’s pants. Harry didn’t fight any of those motions.

“Answer me, Harry. Is that what you think?”

“Yes sir,” he gasped out finally, even as his pants were pulled off and he was shoved back on the bed. Harry didn’t fight that, either, and let himself fall limply.

He felt the bed dip, felt Sir lean over him to fasten his wrists in place on either side of the bed. Harry closed his eyes behind the mask. His legs were splayed out as well and were tied down, Sir’s hands moving with quick and gentle efficiency. “I’m going to give you what you deserve,” Sir said, the words soft and heavy with the weight of his promise. “I’m going to take care of you, Harry.”

Harry sighed and let himself relax. Sir was here. Sir was going to take care of him. He sighed and tilted his face into Sir’s hand when Sir touched his cheek. “Thank you sir,” he whispered, and sucked on a finger when it was pressed into his mouth.

“You’re most welcome, Harry.” Gentle hands stroked over his bare chest, one hand pausing to flick at his left nipple. Harry shivered at the sensation and let out a small noise, a bit confused. He didn’t want to feel pleasure. He wanted to hurt, and Sir had promised to give him what he needed. What he deserved. This wasn’t hurting. This felt… this felt more like their other times together had felt. When Sir had eased Harry down with gentle touches and soft words of praise, when Sir had told him how good he was…

Harry wasn’t good. He’d waited too long to come back, and he’d gotten Ron hurt. Ron would recover, but… But it was Harry’s fault.

Soft lips touched his cheek, then kissed a short path to his lips, where Sir kissed him again, the soft warmth of it making Harry ache. “You think you need to be punished,” Sir breathed against his mouth. Harry whimpered when he felt Sir’s clever fingers stroking down his chest, down his stomach, stopping to toy with the trail of hair beginning just below his belly button. “You don’t need to be punished, darling Harry.” Sir kissed him again, soft and slow.

Harry let out a discontented noise and protested, jerking his head back. “Sir!” His brow furrowed and he tugged against his bindings. He couldn’t… “Sir, please, I need to be punished. I hurt… I got him hurt…”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sir said immediately. “I know that you did the best you could, because you’re such a good boy, Harry.”

“No!” Harry jerked against his bindings once more, for once frustrated by the fact that they were soft and padded and he was unable to hurt himself. He couldn’t get free, either, and he knew that too. “Sir, please, I got him hurt.”

“No you didn’t,” Sir said. He leaned down and kissed Harry once more. “I promise that you didn’t, Harry.” There was something in his voice, a sort of wry certainty that Harry couldn’t understand. “You’re such a good boy, and I’m just going to have to spend the night reminding you of that.”

Harry jerked again in his restraints, tugging as hard as he could, trying to curl in on himself or something, anything. Instead, he got another soft kiss, and Sir’s fingers began to slip further down the trail of hair that led to his length, hard in spite of his frustration. “Sir, please, I need—”

“I know what you need,” Sir whispered. He pressed another kiss to Harry’s lips, then pulled back and shifted further down on the bed. “I always know what you need, Harry. You came to me because you thought you need pain, but you’re always wrong about what you need, aren’t you?”

Harry let out a small sob. Sir wasn’t wrong. He never did manage to understand his own needs, no matter how hard he tried. He jerked again when Sir’s lips touched the head of his cock, this time more in surprise than out of a desire to get away. “Sir!”

“You always think that you’re in the wrong,” Sir murmured, and Harry could feel the slight stirring of the air as his breath caressed Harry’s length. “And you never are. Never. And I keep trying to tell you, but…” There was something in Sir’s voice, now, something almost regretful.

“Sir?” Harry was confused. Sir never sounded like that, even when he was busy convincing Harry that something wasn’t his fault. He never sounded… defeated. But now…

There was a moment of silence, that stretched and stretched until Harry squirmed, anxious. Had Sir left? He wouldn’t be the first Dom that the Proprietor had sent to him, the first to give up on him and go away. They all did, in the end. Sir had lasted for a long time, the longest of any of the doms he’d had, but…

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Sir said, and Harry flinched. Here it came. Sir was going to abandon him, going to leave him alone to deal with all of this on his own, and he couldn’t…

He never should have asked for more. This was his fault. He never should have told the Proprietor that he’d be willing to have an outside relationship with Sir.

Harry didn’t even realize that he was crying until he felt the way that his tears were soaking their way through his blindfold. “Sir,” he begged. “Please don’t go!” He could feel his erection wilting, all arousal fading. He’d had time to get attached to Sir; he didn’t want him to go. He didn’t know for sure, but he thought that he could love him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sir said immediately. Harry felt a touch on his cheek, and he leaned into the touch helplessly. He was cold and tired and felt even worse than he’d felt when he’d come in, which was normally an impossibility. Nocturne always helped, even if he had a new dom when he went in for the night.

He hadn’t had a new dom in months, though. He’d had Sir, and it seemed like that was changing, and it was all Harry’s fault.

“Sir,” Harry begged. He didn’t know what he needed, but he needed something desperately. “Please,” he begged. His safeword was on his lips. He’d never needed to use it with Sir, but… but he thought maybe he might need it now. He couldn’t… he couldn’t do this…

He felt the restraints on his arms and legs come undone, and then he was scooped into Sir’s arms, into his lap. He felt Sir shifting, felt the blindfold that hid Sir from him fall away from his face, and Harry instinctively closed his eyes. “Harry, it’s going to be okay,” Sir whispered. He pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead and held him close. “I’m not leaving you.”

Harry collapsed into messy, ugly sobs, the kind that normally came after hours and hours with Sir, after he’d been tortured and teased and had been on the edge of completion for an eternity. The kind that came when he managed to believe Sir that he wasn’t at fault for whatever had brought him in. Normally, they were cathartic. Now, Harry was just sad. He didn’t want to lose Sir.

The tears stopped eventually, and Harry kept his face buried in Sir’s robes, which Sir hadn’t even taken off this time. They hadn’t even gotten this far, because Harry had fucked up so badly. He was so tired, but not in the good way that he normally was when he left Nocturne. If he left now, he knew that he would never be able to sleep. Again.

“Look at me, Harry,” Sir commanded.

Harry froze. “I don’t have my blindfold, Sir,” he whispered. He looked up, though, his eyes closed.

“I know,” Sir said. “But I think that maybe it’s time that you know who I am. I think that maybe I might be ready to commit to something more permanent, and I think that you might need that in your life, that it would be better for you than what we’ve got now. And I know that you asked the Proprietor to let me know that you wanted something like that.”

Harry’s breath caught. He’d told the Proprietor that weeks ago, and Sir had never expressed any interest in it. Harry had been so sure that this was the end…

“Are you sure, sir?” he asked, his voice shaky and hopeful. Today was one of the worst days of his life, but if Sir was sure…

“I am,” Sir said. “Open your eyes, Harry.”

Harry did so, and found himself staring at the half-scarred face of Bill Weasley, who was looking back at him with an expression of such aching tenderness, such concern, that it took Harry’s breath away. Still… “Fleur,” he started.

Bill just smiled and stroked a hand over Harry’s cheek, the touch familiar and welcome. “She knows,” he said. “She can’t meet these needs of mine, and doesn’t mind that I come to Nocturne to fulfil them. And… I’ve spoken with her about bringing you home to us. Permanently. It’s why I didn’t talk to you before about the things you spoke with the Proprietor about, about your willingness to do this outside of the club. Because I needed to speak with my wife, first.”

Harry let out a small, shaky sigh. “Why today?” he asked finally, even as his eyes traced over Bill’s face. They’d seen each other in person several times since Sir had started taking care of him at Nocturne, and his cheeks pinked. He wondered if Bill had been thinking of their times together when they’d gotten together for family gatherings.

“Because you keep beating yourself up for things that aren’t your fault, that couldn’t possibly be your fault. Ron charged in today without you, and there was nothing you could do about that.” Bill continued to stroke his thumb over his cheek, the gesture as repetitive and as soothing as it would have been if Harry had still been blindfolded.

He found his eyes slipping closed entirely against his will. “If I’d been more well-rested,” Harry started.

“Maybe it might have made a difference,” Bill allowed. The motion of his thumb didn’t still. “But you not being well-rested didn’t make my brother go off half-cocked, like he always does. You can’t control how foolish Ron is, and the fact that you still don’t understand that you’re such a good person makes me ache for you.”

Harry sighed and shifted so that his head was buried in the crook of Bill’s neck where it met his shoulder. “And you think that moving to a more permanent relationship might help me?”

“I think that you taking a break from being an Auror plus moving to a more permanent relationship would help,” Bill said immediately. “Which is why it would be one of the conditions that I have: you would have to stop working for several weeks, at least, until we can get you back on a more even keel.”

“We?” Harry echoed. Was Bill just talking about him and Harry, or…

“Fleur visits Nocturne herself, sometimes,” Bill said. “She’s as much of a dom as I am when it comes to playing, it’s just that she doesn’t need to do it as often as I do. But having you with us… I think she would like that, even though right now she says that it’s only because she thinks you need it as much as I do.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to think. But he’d never really been well known for having well thought out decisions. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Let’s try this, then.”

Bill laughed and pulled him impossibly closer and pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s forehead. “Okay then.”

ooOOooOOoo

Harry didn’t know what to expect when he went home with Bill that night. He was more on edge than he’d been in… well, ever, since he’d first gone to Nocturne, and somehow he didn’t think that would change when they arrived at the cottage that Bill shared with his wife.

Fleur was up, reading a book, when they walked into the flat. She looked up, then smiled brightly at the sight of Harry. “So he finally spoke to you,” she said, her accent still as thick as it ever was. She crossed the room and took Harry’s shoulders. “Welcome, Harry.”

Harry relaxed a little at the warmth of her welcome. It seemed genuine, and he couldn’t think of a reason for her to fake it. “Thank you,” he said quietly, honestly.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” Fleur asked. The words were directed towards her husband, removing any pressure from Harry to answer.

“Harry, how long are you on leave after today’s incident?” Bill asked, instead of directly answering Fleur’s question.

“Three days,” Harry said. “And then I have to report back in to work.”

“Tonight, then, you’re going to spend the night blindfolded and restrained. You’re going to rest and get a full eight hours of sleep. When you wake up in the morning, I want you to write to work and request three weeks of leave.”

Harry let out a shuddering sigh. “Yes sir,” he whispered, finding it easier than he thought it would be to slip into the right frame of mind without his blindfold on.

“Good boy,” Bill murmured, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. It should have been strange, being able to see the pleased expression on his face, but it just added another layer of warmth to the feelings already building inside of Harry.

“Come,” Fleur said. She took a step back, taking Harry’s hand in hers and tugging him along. “I wish to see how my husband ties you to the bed.”

The thought should be strange, but Harry found instead that it made his heart beat faster and his cheeks flushed. He liked the idea of Fleur watching him, surprisingly, and he didn’t know what to do with that. He hadn’t thought he was into exhibition, but maybe he was wrong.

There was still a lot about his kinks that he didn’t know.

Harry didn’t really look around the bedroom he was led to, didn’t focus on anything except for Bill as he stripped him of his clothes and pressed him down onto the sinfully comfortable bed. It was apparently built with some special features, because Bill tied him to the bed easily, looping the restraints through places that looked to have been built in for that exact purpose.

“Remind me of your safeword, Harry,” Bill murmured after the last tie was in place.

Harry breathed out. “Marauder,” he said. It was one of the few words he could think of that would never come up in a sexual situation, but it wasn’t one that would make people uncomfortable. He’d learned that lesson with his very first dom when he’d used ‘Voldemort.’

“These are enchanted,” Bill said, even as he reached for the blindfold. “If anything happens, if you need to get away, you just use your safeword and they will fall off. Okay?”

Harry nodded. “Yes sir,” he said. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to test it.

“Good boy,” Bill murmured. He pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead, then drew back and placed the blindfold over Harry’s eyes.

Harry let his eyes fall closed as the blindfold was tied into place. It felt almost like being in Nocturne, but the sheets were softer and had a different smell. A nice smell, but different. It was making it hard to relax, although Harry tried. He wanted to be good.

“Can you sleep like this?” Bill asked, his voice soft and warm.

“I’ll try, sir,” Harry said. He tried to will himself to relax, but it didn’t work. He went through a meditation exercise he’d learned as a recruit, and that helped. Harry decided to try another tactic and focused on relaxing each one of his muscle groups individually, and eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up partially when he felt the bed dip, one on either side of him, and thought he heard Fleur saying, “He’s beautiful like this,” her voice wondering.

Bill’s response was warm when he said, “He is. And he’s such a good boy, too.”

Harry smiled and let himself drift back into a deeper sleep. He was good; sir said so.


End file.
